Wild Passion

by Dawn Luedecke

  She took a step toward the corral, then stopped and scrunched her nose. She’d never stolen anything before. She’d get caught before she even rode past the chickens. Those clucking, troublemaking tattletales would give her away. The loggers would tie her to a tree and force her to stay just to make more huckleberry flapjacks. Although soon it would be huckleberry that made their mouths water. Who else was going to keep them well-fed while Aunt June was gone?

  The heavy thump of shoes on the ground alerted her to a man’s presence, and she turned as Thomas slid from the shadows of the trees.

  “I thought you’d never come out.” His voice was more accusatory than she’d anticipated. Why? Because she hadn’t come out earlier? The more time she spent with the man, the more she realized the mistake she’d made in using him as a way to get back at Simon. And Simon was right, she should have never played Aunt June’s games.

  “I’ve a lot to do before the men leave in the morning.”

  Through the moonlight, she saw him nod. “Ah, yes. You’ll be left unsupervised to do as you wish.”

  She didn’t miss the lustful hope in his words. Her stomach dropped, and a sour taste formed in the back of her throat. It was now or never. She should do it before she lost her nerve. “Thomas, I’m afraid I can’t entertain you anymore. I’m not the woman for you, and I shouldn’t have encouraged your affections.”

  She’d expected a quiet acceptance. Pleading for her to reconsider. Perhaps even anger, but the man gave nothing but a half-chuckle. “I’m afraid we’re beyond that, my dear.”

  “Pardon?” she asked, and grasped the necklace. If she could take back the day by the wagon, she’d have stayed in the cabin. Away from amorous men and their gifts. Although, she did love Nots something fierce.

  “I know you were compromised by that fiend,” he spit the words toward Simon’s shadowed figure near the fire. “But don’t worry. I’m willing to look past your indiscretion and marry you anyway.”

  “Again I ask, beg your pardon?” Who in Hades’s fire did he think he spoke to in such a way? She’d met some reprehensible men in her time, but never one so presumptuous as to assume bullying and blackmail would win her hand.

  “You’ll never find a decent husband after your indiscretion is known, but don’t worry. I’ll still be here. I’m not one to shirk because of a little wickedness on your part.” Did Thomas wiggle his eyebrows on the last words? She couldn’t be certain in the darkness, but one thing she was certain of—her blood boiled like a witch’s brew.

  “I wouldn’t do you the disservice of gracing your life with my wickedness. I thank you for your gracious concern for my reputation, but I can assure you I have no intention of marrying you simply because you will look past my indiscretions. I am perfectly content with becoming an old maid. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.” She pivoted and stomped off toward the railcar, but her chest quivered with suppressed emotion, and tears formed in the bottom of her eyes.

  At least she’d gotten rid of the overzealous, wife-hunting logger once and for all.

  * * * *

  Hidden in the dense shadows of the pines, Simon waited for Carrie. He’d watched her stomp off after talking to Thomas, then kept an eye on the man as he headed toward the Bonner camp. From the looks of their stiff postures while they spoke, she’d let him down. Hard. The knot around Simon’s chest eased a bit at the event. Now all he had to do was convince her to fall in love with him—a scared, imperfect shell of a man. But a man who needed her desperately.

  Thomas was not good enough for Carrie. Frankly, neither was he, but he was a helluva lot better than a young, two-bit timber beast. If only Aunt June hadn’t started this whole mess. He needed to speak with the meddlesome cook about her intrusions. Maybe even beg her to keep her nose out of his future affairs, especially those pertaining to Carrie. He didn’t need Aunt June ruining any chance he had at making Carrie fall in love with him. Which after their time at Mother Goose’s Cottage was his sole intent. He couldn’t live without her, and he’d spend the rest of his life making her love him as much as he did her.

  Carrie had stayed in Beth’s railcar until the fire had long since burned out, and he’d waited patiently. He needed sleep for the coming drive, but even more, he needed to see her one last time. Maybe even steal a kiss to carry him through until he returned.

  His chest hollowed at the thought of leaving her. Especially now. He’d found peace with the intimacy they’d shared. The moment she’d let him slip her clothes from her luscious body, he knew they were destined for one another. All those years he’d teased her, fantasized about bedding her like one of his conquests, he’d never imagined she’d end up stealing his soul and mending it with hers. With one simple glance, one compromise she’d made for him, she had reached into his heart and stolen it forever. A heart he didn’t think he had anymore.

  He couldn’t lose her.

  The squeal of a door needing grease echoed through the night. Simon waited in silence as Carrie left the flickering light of the candle within his sister’s railcar and hopped down the steps. It was too dark to see her expression, but the speed at which she moved through the night let him know she was in a hurry.

  He listened for her footsteps to grow near. “A little late to be traipsing around the forest, isn’t it?”

  Carrie let out a squeal and stopped quickly. “Good Lord, Simon. You startled me. You’re no better than a bear out here.”

  He stepped close to her and wrapped his arm around her waist to tug her until their bodies melded together. He didn’t bother to ask. Didn’t want to risk resistance to his touch. “Promise me you won’t leave the cabin after dark while I’m gone.”

  “I promise,” she said, breathlessly. “I’ve no intention of getting killed out here in the dark.”

  “Promise me you won’t be alone with Thomas.”

  “Simon,” she chided, and pushed against his chest.

  He held her tight. “Please, Carrie. That’s all I ask of you.”

  He used the words she’d seared into his soul to plead his case. Would she remember what she’d asked of him? Did she remember? He did.

  The pressure against his chest eased, and she leaned into his body. “All right. I promise. I won’t leave after dark, and I will not be with Thomas alone.”

  He knew where her mouth was by the feel of her body in his arms. During their time together, every inch of her printed onto his memory. He could move his hand over her birthmark without so much as stripping a single piece of clothing from her body.

  He nestled his nose in her hair above her ear and smelled the sweet honeyed scent of her, and then moved down to kiss her as he had before. He lifted her slightly to allow him better access to plunder her mouth. He wanted her to remember him when he left. Wanted every thought in her mind to center on him. Leaving her breathless for his kisses was the only way he knew how to leave her dreaming of his return.

  He pulled back from her mouth. Her chest against his fell in rapid breaths, and she clutched his jacket as if he grounded her to earth, to him. “Don’t do anything to endanger yourself while I’m gone. I can’t lose you.”

  “I won’t.” Her voice sounded husky with passion, and in the darkness, she cleared her throat and stepped gingerly out of his embrace. This time he let her go. He envisioned her smoothing her hair as women were wont to do after a good, hard kiss. To his delight, Carrie reached out and touched his arm. “As long as you take care on the river. Garrett mentioned it was dangerous this year.”

  “It is.” He nodded, although he knew she couldn’t see him through the night. “But don’t worry about me, my love, it’s nothing I haven’t done before. I’ve run with the Devils a time or two, but I’ve never been one of them before.”

  “Still, take care,” she said.

  “Did you tell Thomas to leave you alone?”

  “Yes. I told him the tr
uth. I do not plan to wed anyone anytime soon. Having been paraded before every wealthy bachelor in Montana, I’d like a chance to discover who I am. Without a husband.”

  “I’m glad you finally addressed Thomas.” He said the encouraging words, but a knot grew in his stomach and slid to his throat. Her words bored a hole in his heart, but at the same time caused the tightening in his chest to ease at the thought that she would not entertain anyone’s affections. At least he could leave knowing Thomas wouldn’t find a way into Carrie’s marriage bed, and Simon could always come back and convince her otherwise.

  Simon wanted to ask her to wait for him, but her words echoed in his mind. Her nonchalance after having given herself to the skilled caress of his hands, the hard decision to avoid marriage altogether, maybe even the way she hadn’t spoken a word about the moment they’d shared had all combined to give him pause. She was a woman, and in his experience, they wanted to chatter nonstop after having experienced his lovemaking. Carrie hadn’t said so much as a word about it, which caused his heart to palpitate whenever he thought about her response, or rather lack thereof.

  He’d have to explore the issue later. Take more time to convince her he was a man worth having. Tonight, he needed to get her back to the cabin before Aunt June took a spoon to him like she would a wayward child. She’d do it, too. He’d seen many large-statured loggers whither under Aunt June’s spoon. “Come, my love, we need to get you back to the cabin.”

  “Don’t call me your ‘love,’” she said, but her voice lacked the strength behind her words.

  He didn’t respond. What she didn’t know, and what he’d only just discovered himself, was that he was in love with her. The hard kind of love that grips the bitterness from your soul and replaces it with her light. And he’d live the rest of his life proving it true. Even if he had to wait until she was old and senile, he would.

  Chapter 15

  Carrie stood on the banks of Seeley Lake and watched Simon float away behind the logs joined together to make what the rivermen called the Raft. She wanted to cry. Had fought the urge ever since the night before when Simon kissed her. She didn’t resist the moment. Didn’t want to. At that instant, all she’d wanted was to be with him. Let him into her soul like Garrett and Beth had done with each other. She wanted what they had discovered together. A lifetime of struggles, love, and passion.

  She wanted Simon.

  Forget about his accident. His torrid past. She wanted the man she knew he was deep inside, and she wanted him to finally realize who he was meant to be. If she couldn’t have him the way he was meant to be—a man passionate about life and happy in love—then she wouldn’t have anyone. Life as Aunt June’s protégé looked more realistic now than it had when she’d first made the decision to die an old maid.

  Simon made love to her, then continued to seduce her the way he had many women. She wasn’t fool enough to believe she was any different from the tainted women he’d previously seduced. Before long he would grow tired of her and move on to another conquest. That’s how he worked. How he always treated his women. Weeks, sometimes months, of seduction followed by a lifetime of tears for the ladies he left behind. How many times had she gone about town and had to console the distraught women as they tried hard to hide their broken affair? She didn’t dare even try to count.

  Now she was one of them.

  A chattel in his collection of hearts.

  She’d brought it on herself, she supposed. If only she’d been stronger. After all, she’d known what he was before he’d even had the accident. If only she’d battled him harder. Maybe then she could have kept her heart from shattering like the glass in a looking glass tossed across a room.

  When Simon stood close, though, she lost the ability for rational thought. Only the sensation of what she felt when he touched her dictated her next move. More like impaired her judgment. When he dipped his head low, she could think of nothing but him.

  “Where do we start?” Beth asked from behind her.

  Carrie swiped at the tears with the back of her hand and faced her dearest friend. At least Beth had given no qualms about staying with her in camp. Carrie really wasn’t like her friend, but she supposed they balanced each other. Beth with her brazen, adventurous spirit and Carrie with her more conservative and logical approach to things. They often prevented one another from entering into horrible situations. Simon was one mistake she couldn’t let Beth know she’d made. Not yet, anyway. “The noon meal, I suppose.”

  Beth lead the way to camp. “Are you all right? Did Simon do something to you again? I swear, he never acted like such a blowhard before his accident. Now he’s all insults and outbursts. I can talk to him when he gets back if you want. Tell him to get over what we did to him already, and leave you be.”

  “No.” Carrie sniffled. Beth, involved in building a new life with her husband, left Simon to wallow in his own misery. Even today she remained oblivious to what had happened in her brother’s life, let alone Carrie’s. For the best, she supposed. Her dearest friend was newly wed and completely troublesome. She didn’t need Beth making her life any more complicated than Aunt June had already done. “No. It’s not Simon. Must be the air up here, or change in season.”

  “It is a bit dry for having just rained.” Beth all but skipped down the trail. “I thought we’d have enough weather to wet the mountain, but it didn’t last. With the low snowfall and dry spring, we’ll be sitting in a tinderbox and striking matches with the chute. Glad we don’t have to run it anymore.”

  “It’s a good thing they took the river load down,” Carrie said, leaping over a stone-laden patch in the trail. “Spring is over. Now the men can focus on the Railroad Grove and still meet the contract.”

  “Sure, if we ever get the steam loader running again. We can’t get the loads down if we don’t get the logs on the train.” Beth strolled into camp and leaned against Aunt June’s serving table, her pants such an odd look on a woman about to prepare meals, but one Beth loved to wear.

  Carrie followed, but with a less enthusiastic approach to being left behind to brew and bubble about her moral spiral. She wanted to blame Simon, but she’d made a conscious decision to let her heart think for her, and now her brain had to pay the price. She could blame no one but herself. Would she give into temptation again? Did she even want to tempt fate? “Since Simon took the position on the drive, I expect Wall will be able to focus solely on mending whatever needs to be fixed. With luck, the train will run soon. Then perhaps we can get Aunt June and the rivermen back up here.”

  And hopefully by then she’d have a better idea as to what she wanted to do about Simon. She walked to the cook cabin and let Nots out. Maybe she should stop stewing about what had happened in the past and start planning for what was to come upon his return. If she were the woman she planned to be, she’d let logic and reason make her decisions. She would walk away and not let him tear out her heart the way he’d done before.

  “God willing, they’ll be back up within a few weeks. Earlier if they push hard.” Beth slapped the table in a most unladylike way. “So, what did you plan to do for the noon meal?”

  “I have an idea to help the men get more work done. And with them close by, it’ll be a lot easier than when they were at two separate Groves.” Carrie smiled. She refused to let her heart dictate her path. It always seemed to get her into trouble. From now on, she’d let her reasonable side decide her fate. And it started with food.

  * * * *

  Simon ran this thumb down the scar on his face and watched the men leap from log to log. One of the new rivermen wobbled precariously while he poked his peavey into the center of the nest in a weak attempt to dislodge the obstruction. Only a few hours on the drive and already they’d encountered difficulties. Wall had said his men were all experienced, but this greenhorn jabbed his peavey at the log like a stuffed child to his vegetables. He didn’t look fit to ride the bateau, let a
lone the logs. The man wobbled on one leg as he struggled to gain his balance with flailing hands. In a mere breath he could roll right into the white water beneath the growing nest and be gone forever.

  Simon couldn’t lose a riverman while leading the Devil May Cares. Victoria would have his head mounted in her new doily-filled office at the Mill. The tree under Simon’s feet wobbled as it smacked into the nest and lodged. Like a mountain goat on a cliff, he leapt across the rolling logs until he reached the young logger. “Get to the bank!” he shouted, and pointed toward the safety of the riverbank a quarter of the way across the river.

  The young man shook his head.

  Simon’s face heated at being disobeyed. Who in Hades’s name did this boy think he was? Simon jumped onto the log next to the boy and leaned close so as not to be mistaken. “Get to the bank! Now!”

  His fingers tingled with the need to toss the young man toward the shoreline, but he resisted. To do so would only send the logger tumbling into the water. He needed to get his plow cleaned, though. Maybe a good beating would teach him to obey a command the first time.

  The young logger nodded and jumped like a mouse following a frog across a lily pad field. Not that he’d ever seen such a sight, but the way the man carried himself—shaky and uneasy—brought the image to mind.

  Simon shoved hard at a log in the center of the nest, and the wood beneath his feet shuddered. He searched the water around him for the bateau, but it was nowhere in sight. Who the hell was manning the safety boat? Without another option, Simon shoved hard at the key log and felt, more than heard, the crack of the nest breaking free. His heart pounded against his ribs as he ran over the shifting logs toward the bank.

  If he didn’t get there in time, he’d be sucked down into the water. Tossed about with the violent force of the logs as they shot down the river, propelled by the pressure of Mother Nature and the logs behind.

  Each time he lifted a foot, water immediately replaced the wood beneath him. In a few hard heartbeats, he leapt across the last piece of timber to land with a thud on the bank.